coffeed breakfast

how is it that i have absolutely nothing to do

yet so much that i want to do

standards

" you're so special, you know that?"
" no im not. im a loser. youre the special one. youre so special, you have no idea."
" hmm. well u say im special right?"
" yeah."
" well a special person would only look for a special person to be with."
...

simba

a special jewel like u shud be placed in a solid box away from dirt and the sharp edges. i wish i could do that. protect u

but u know far more than i do.
in fact, youre very much solid.
the jewel? my heart.. perhaps.


im sorry
somehow the same old shit keeps following me everywhere i go. or perhaps i keep following it
but ur always being my box. n i dont deserve it

bermuda triangle

open up and tell me how u feel
i want u to but u refuse

be honest and stop hiding things
u want me to but i refuse


realize just how lucky i am now.
i want to.. but i refuse.

internal conflict.. yet again

some things are best left unsaid.
but to be honest th years ahead is exactly the reason why im holding up so well.
cos i know somewhere along the lines, things will change for the better.
not just yet tho.

right now all i feel is anger. eats me up inside. we fight, a lot, and it probably doesnt affect him as much as it does me. sometimes i can actually feel the fire seething in my heart. which is why i need an outlet.. or perhaps, a distraction.

on the other hand, i am... doubtful. of the things i say and the decisions i make. careful not to let history repeat itself once more. fool me once, shame on u. fool me twice? never happening.

love is

monday, 21/12/09 - elizabeth's christmas party

two guys and i were in a heated argument about what seemed to be the definition of love.
" let me ask u then, what is love to u?" he asks me excitedly.

i sat there, dumbfounded by a question with a topic so subjective and deep, i would have to be in an extremely intense situation or extremely mellowed-out in order to answer this question.
" umm. i cant answer that now. its too general." i said.

" no its simple. what is love?" he asks again.
" energy!!!" chimed a fellow cheerleader who was standing behind me.
" well okay according to ms cheerleader over here, love is energy."
" no, no. love is gentle, love is kind." says the party host herself, who is, evidently, a devout Christian.

laughter fills the room as, from the adrenaline-induced cheerleader to bible-quoting girl, a variety of definitions were shouted out.

" there are different meanings to love. but to me," he started, " love is life. life is love. its simple as that." his hands swayed in enthusiasm as he preached.

" im just saying," i began to digress. " when u say 'i love u' to this person, how can u say those three words again to the next person ur with? if there's no definition to it, then why say it in the first place?"
"cos its just experience girl." he then began to explain the different definitions of cinta and sayang, as well as the sayang we feel for our parents and our friends, talking about a different game entirely.

tuesday, 22/12/09 - msn

a: out of curiosity, what is love to u?
b: what i had before with u

an hour later, i then asked my dad, what is love. " love is always...being in love with your wife."
mom then smirks, " he's saying that cos im in front of him."

love can be so many things.
but i think, love is only when it's real, sincere and complementary:)

new contact

" the reason why i didnt save your number was cos..." you started.
" i felt like i didnt deserve to."

that caught me off guard. one usually chooses to put another's contact number into oblivion either as a way of moving on or an expression of an apparent grudge. i remember doing so myself not too long ago.
only to realize that it was already permanently etched in my brain.

" you'd be one of the first few numbers that i'd save whenever i get a new phone." i muttered under my breath, annoyed at how ... thoughtful i always am when it comes to him.

guilt, you said.
you then explained that seeing my name in your phone would simply evoke a feeling of guilt in you, (considering the history that we've had). hence you chose to avoid so by not having me keyed in your phone entirely. it comforts me to know that you do, in fact, have a heart after all. sometimes i forget that.

" but i just saved your number. so..." you drifted off, letting the silence do the job of stating the obvious.

just shoot me already

i like to listen to people.
listen to their problems- not to judge, but to help them.
but sometimes i empathize too much that i feel like im the one wearing the shoes
and i feel like death.